


The Closer I Am To Finding

by mydeira



Series: Something Maybe 'Verse [10]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-09
Updated: 2011-07-09
Packaged: 2017-10-21 05:02:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydeira/pseuds/mydeira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Close calls with death do not lead to rational thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Closer I Am To Finding

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: through “They Keep Killing…”
> 
> Disclaimer: Sadly, I am neither RTD nor the BBC. This is purely for the exorcism of the big bad bunny that landed on my head.
> 
> A/N: Follows Just A Little Something and takes place after the episode “They Keep Killing…” This is the tenth installment in the Something Maybe ‘Verse. Most of what we saw in the episode transpires pretty much the same way in my little ‘verse. Here’s another one of those stories that I start writing with one idea in mind, and then it ends up somewhere I didn’t expect. And, often, it’s a very pleasant, albeit frustrating, surprise. If it weren’t for sadbhyl, I would have given this chapter up for lost ages ago. But she made me keep at it. And I’m glad she did.

There was something in the darkness. Lurking. Waiting.

Gwen struggled to hang onto the last bits of life that were still hers. But they were slipping away, faster and faster now. She didn’t even feel the pain anymore. And, God help her, she would have given anything for the searing tear of the bullet through her head. Pain meant she was still alive. But no pain meant she was losing.

It was getting closer, the thing in the darkness. Closer and colder. God, she was so cold. Hands were reaching for her, grasping, grabbing, trying to holding on, pull her down, drag her away—

Her fist connected with solid flesh.

“Fucking hell.”

Gwen came fully awake in an instant. It had been real not even a day ago, but now it was just a dream. She was alive if her heart thumping hard in her chest were to be believed.

It took her a moment to gain her bearings, but after catching the lights dancing on the bay, she finally knew where she was. Turning around, she found Owen glaring at her, his left eye hidden behind his hand.

“I can say without at doubt that you do not hit like a girl.” He dropped his hand and she could just make out faint swelling starting on his cheekbone.

“I hit you?” She reached forward instinctively but was shrugged off.

“Don’t worry yourself. I’ve had worse,” he said. “That must have been a hell of a dream you were having. You were thrashing about like a mad thing.”

“Sorry.” She must have been making up for the fact she couldn’t move in the dream. Gwen shivered. She really didn’t want to think about it. What she needed was a distraction. Tossing back the covers, she started to crawl out of bed. “Let me get you some ice. You’ll have a hell of a bruise otherwise.”

A firm hand settled on her shoulder, staying her. “Don’t. I’ll be fine.”

She shook him off and got up. “I need to do something, Owen.”

He smirked at her.

Well, if that wasn’t bloody predictable, she didn’t know what was. “Right, because shagging you worked so well the first time,” she snapped. “If I’d wanted nightmares, I would have gone home.”

Owen snorted. “Fucking me has never been a cure-all, sweetheart. Much as I’d love to claim it.”

“You’re such an arrogant shit, I’m surprised you don’t.” The truth was, shagging Owen had managed to keep the monsters at bay until tonight. It couldn’t work forever, though, could it? Maybe she should take it as a sign. If this was no longer a means for escape, then what was she doing here? She had nearly died, but she kept on with the same things. First Tosh with the necklace, and now this. She had been given a second wake-up call. If she didn’t put a stop to this now, would she ever?

“I can’t do this anymore,” she said.

“Excuse me?” There was a half laugh of disbelief in Owen’s voice.

“This. Us. Whatever it is. It’s done,” she replied with more conviction. She could do this. Just say no and walk away. “It’s over, Owen.” And before he could argue, she headed out to the living room find her clothes. The sooner she got out of there and away from him, the better.

Gwen had just gotten her knickers firmly in place when she spotted her jeans over the back of Owen’s couch. She barely made it two steps before Owen grabbed her wrist and spun her violently around to face him. His face was set in hard lines, eyes narrowed as he studied her.

“Do you think that by saying this is over that makes it true?” He didn’t shout. His voice was very calm. It was the only thing about him that was calm at the moment.

She stood straighter but didn’t try to free herself. “Yes.”

His laughter had a cold, cruel edge. “For how long?”

“What?”

“How long can you lie to yourself, Gwen? A day? A week? Ten minutes?” He pulled her forward until she collided flush against his body, his cock nudging insistently against her stomach. “This isn’t over. Not by a long shot.” His kiss was brutal and bruising and, god, she didn’t want him to stop. She was breathless and aching for more by the time he pulled back. “This is the only thing that satisfies you, sweetheart. And until you find something else, you’ll keep coming back.” Owen released her then. “Now go if you want. Just be prepared to take care of yourself, because I know old Rhys can’t give you what you need.”

She slapped him, the sound shattering the silence of the apartment.

He rubbed his right cheek. “You trying to give me a matching set?”

“You went too far, Owen.” Gwen could feel the anger coiling hot in her belly, a low, steady burn trying to kindle further. “Rhys is all that I need. I’ve lost sight of that.”

“Gwen, darling,” his voice was cut with acid, “you have to be the first person I’ve met for whom a near death experience makes them to lie to themselves more.”

“I’m done lying.”

“So you’re going to run right home and tell Rhys what all you’ve been up to these last few months?” He shook his head. “That’s pathetic, Cooper. Didn’t take you for a masochist. But, hey, if that’s what you want,” he held up his hands and backed up, “have at it.”

Owen had given Gwen her out. All she had to do was finish dressing and walk away. Instead, she reclaimed the distance he had put between them.

“Christ, you’re acting like I’m dumping you.”

“Last time I checked that’s what ‘It’s done’ implied.”

She was tempted to smack him again, for the sheer satisfaction of it. But she managed to restrain herself. That was the trouble with Owen. Most of the time she either wanted to hit him or shag him. So, instead of lashing out physically, she stuck to words.

“So, what, we’re supposed to keep doing this until one of us does die? Is that how it was with you and Suzie?” she spat. “At least now I know what Tosh meant about getting my feet under the table.”

“Ah, so that’s what all of this is about. Don’t know why I didn’t see it sooner.”

“Don’t go making assumptions, Owen.”

“Assume that you feel jealous, betrayed, and used? Now why would I assume that?” He watched her closely. “Because if I were to go there, then the next step would be to assume that this thing between us isn’t the nothing you’re trying to make it.” His head tilted to the side, studying her from a different angle. “Fact is, Gwen, you’re not running away because you’re sick and tired of betraying Rhys, you’re running because this is the only thing that’s making sense in the crazy life you have now.”

His words hit too close to home, like they often did. And she could never really say for certain if it was one of the things that she hated most about him, or if it was one of the biggest attractions. But more than anything, it scared the shit out of her. There were times that Owen seemed to understand her better than she understood herself.

“You think you’ve got it all figured out, don’t you?” she snarled, clinging to her rage and ignoring the truth of his words. It was easier.

Grabbing her again, he spun her so that she was trapped against his chest and then pivoted so they were facing the window, reflections super-imposed over the night-lit bay.

“I’ve had you figured out since your first day on the job,” he said, breath teasing her skin as he scented along her neck. “Still riding the high from your make-out session in the cells, when you threw me against the wall, that’s when I knew. Knew that underneath that good girl façade was a fierce, wild thing dying to get out.” He homed in on one of the sensitive patches of skin on her neck, worrying it until she squirmed, then sucking until there was no doubt there would be a mark.

“You bastard.” She tried to twist free, but his hold only tightened.

“I am. And that’s why you want me, Gwen.” His grin was feral in the glass. “Because the thing of it is, you like a bloke who gets your hackles up, makes you fight for control. The type of bloke who isn’t scared by a strong woman. That’s what you need. A woman like you isn’t made to settle. You have your kinks and crave the surge of adrenaline mixed with passion. Solid, dependable Rhys can’t give you that.” Owen spun her again to face him, pressing her back against the cold glass. “There are only two reasons I can see why you’re even with him to begin with. All your mates have settled and started up families, and you’re starting to feel like the odd woman out. While you may not want it, you feel you should, so you seek it out. Or, you fell a little too hard for one of your bad boys and got your heart trampled on. So, you sought out someone cut from a completely different cloth.” He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a near growl. “And I have a feeling it’s the latter. Gwen Cooper doesn’t strike me as a woman to follow the crowd, but she does seem to be the type that if she lets someone in, she lets them in all the way.” He moved in closer, lips whispering lightly over her ear. “You don’t do things by half-measures, Gwen. When you go for something, it’s all or nothing.”

Gwen shivered. It was both a physical and emotional reaction. She had come to Owen for escape, not to have the truths she had been hiding from flung back in her face.

“I love him,” she said. It was the only defense she could come up with.

“Of course you do.” There was a softness in Owen’s voice that affected her more than his harsh words and rough handling. “Like I said, you’re not one to do things half-arsed.”

She twisted her head to the side, needing to look anywhere but at Owen. If she couldn’t get away physically, at least she could get a reprieve visually. Because if she had to look at those dark, knowing eyes any longer, she’d break.

“You’re right,” she admitted finally. “I don’t do things half-arsed. That’s why this has to stop. Now. I can’t keep living two lives.”

He forced her to look at him, fingers firm against her chin . “That mean you’re giving up Torchwood, too?”

“What? No. Of course I’m not!”

“Then you’ll still be living two lives regardless if you toss me over or not,” he said simply. “That’s your real problem here, Gwen. Not me. And not bloody Rhys.” His voice was softer when he continued. “Torchwood and the cozy home life don’t go together. The sooner you get that sorted, the happier you’ll be.”

“There’s nothing to sort,” she murmured. And there really wasn’t. She’d just been putting off the inevitable for the last few months. Years, maybe. “You were right earlier, settling down was never anything I wanted. But shit happens and you realize that maybe you need to try something else.”

“Didn’t stick, though, did it?” One of his hands toyed lightly with the ends of her hair. The gesture was almost as soothing as his voice was.

Gwen shook her head. “Thought it had. Settle into a routine for long enough and you can convince yourself of just about anything.” She grimaced. “Rhys is a good man who had really great timing. And he doesn’t deserve how I’ve been treating him.” Slouching against the window, she sighed. “I know what I need to do. I’ve known for awhile. I just… Why can’t I let go?”

Owen was quiet for a moment, as though waiting to make certain she had finished. Finally, he said, “You’ve been with Rhys how long now? A couple of years?”

“Just over three.”

“There’s your answer.” Her puzzlement must have shown because he went on. “Three years of your life is a hell of an investment, especially the way you do things, Gwen. Saying so long and thanks for all the fish is never easy when you love someone. And it’s even more difficult when that’s your last link to anything stable and secure in this world.”

Owen had backed off some, but Gwen still found herself trapped between him and the window. She felt too exposed. What she wouldn’t give to be wearing more than a ridiculous pair of lacy knickers. There was nothing to distract her from things.

At last, she confessed, “And giving it up makes Torchwood and everything all that more real.”

“Cooper moves to the head of the class,” he said, but there was nothing cruel or mocking in his tone.

Her lips curled in a small smile as she looked at him slyly. “You were a psych major, weren’t you?”

“Couldn’t bloody stand it.” His face twisted with mild distaste. “I’m just a keen observer of human nature is all.”

Keen observer, or he’d been in a similar position himself once. And that made Gwen realize that she knew very little about Owen. The man had a clear bead on her, but the reverse was definitely not the case. But was that such a bad thing?

She sighed. “So where does that leave me?”

“Leaves you with a decision to make, Gwen. And it ain’t an easy one at that.” He flashed her a sympathetic smile.

“No,” she shook her head, “I made the choice back when I joined Torchwood. I just need to follow through all the way, I suppose.” God, admitting that shouldn’t be as painful as it was.

She was startled by Owen’s hand, warm and firm on her own. “Considering the fuss I kicked up earlier, you’re probably going to smack me for making this suggestion. Just go for the right side again,” he said lightly. Then, sobering, “Maybe you do need a break from this thing we’ve got going until you get things sorted. Eliminate one of your distractions.”

He had to be joking! But she could tell from the look on his face that he wasn’t. “Why?”

Owen looked past her. “Seems that I’m having a noble moment. Best take advantage while it lasts.”

Just when she started to think she had him figured out…

“Or I’m being incredibly selfish,” he said. “You’re an all or nothing girl, Gwen. It’s possible that I’d like a chance at the all.”

Gwen opened her mouth, but no words came out. How was she supposed to respond to that? There were times when she was with Owen that she wondered if he was in this for more than the fantastic sex, and yet…

His eyes settled on hers again, unreadable. “Take the time, yeah?”

She nodded, not knowing how else to respond.

“Good girl.” He leaned forward, cupping her cheek and kissing her fleetingly. “You should probably head home.”

“I don’t want to go,” she said before she could stop herself, gripping his hand tighter as he started to let go. This felt too much like good-bye for some reason.

“Gwen, I think it’s a good idea.”

“No. Not yet. Not tonight.” She pushed off the window, bringing their bodies flush.

“What are you doing?” he asked suspiciously as she curled her arms around his neck.

“Trusting my instincts,” she said before taking possession of his mouth. His lips were already parted with surprise, so she gained easy entry. She kept the kiss shallow and slow, savoring the taste and feel of him. “I need you, Owen.” And she realized that was the truth. “Take me to bed. Please.”

There was a flicker of something in his eyes, but it was gone before she could figure out what it had been. A moment later, he scooped her up in his arms and started carrying her back to his bedroom. “I think I can manage that.” From the way he said it, it sounded like nothing could make him happier. He deposited her on the bed and joined her, hovering over her. “Tell me again that we’re not done.”

There was a flicker of something vulnerable in his eyes. “We’re not done, Owen,” she reassured him, reaching up to lightly trace over the faint bruising from when she had hit him while waking up. “Should have gotten ice on that.”

He removed her hand and kissed her palm lightly. “It’ll be fine. Besides, with my mouth, I’m kind of used to it.”

“Your mouth had nothing to do with it.”

“Got lucky enough times that I’ve had it coming.”

She couldn’t help but grin. “So you’re admitting you have a big mouth?”

“Why deny it?” He shrugged. “Besides, while it often gets me into trouble, my mouth also happens to get me out of a lot of trouble as well.”

“Does it now?” Gwen challenged, feeling her body flush at the memory of just how talented his mouth could be. For all his faults, Owen definitely knew what a girl liked and seemed to take great pleasure in giving pleasure. Which meant that he wasn’t a completely selfish bastard.

“Mm hm,” he murmured as he placed an almost chaste kiss on her lips and began to trace a trail of the same along her chin and down her neck. They were faint and fleeting, just this side of teasing. He seemed to be in no hurry.

And that was fine by her. She wanted more than a hard, fast fuck right now, and Owen seemed to understand that. There was a tenderness to his touch that was more obvious than it usually was. His caresses and the press of his lips as they descended, mapping out her skin, were just this side of worshipful and far from teasing. It was arousing, but by more subtle degrees. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was making love to her instead of, well, just taking his time shagging her.

Was it so horrible that sex could be more than wham bam thank you with Owen?

He paused for a moment in his descent, eyes dark and serious as he gazed up at her. “Tonight you’re mine, Gwen Cooper,” he stated, his voice going to the low, rough register that was weighted with possession and left no room for argument. It was the voice that never failed to ratchet up her arousal, made her want him that much more.

He picked up right where he left off, going even slower than before, though each contact of his lips and tongue and the light grazing of teeth had a bit more intent behind them than before. Down he went, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. Each breast received lavish attention in turn, Owen knowing just the right combination of sensations to leave her breathless but not quite desperate. By the time he reached her stomach, moving to tease the tiny, sensitive scars on her right side, Gwen found it difficult to form any coherent thoughts. And that was perfectly alright by her. His ministrations were so soothing, so gentle and so very much what she needed right now.

“Knew I was going to enjoy these.” An undercurrent of amusement ran through the words.

The pellet wounds had healed up quite nicely, and she was rather proud of the tiny smattering of scars.

She whimpered when his mouth finally broke contact with her skin, but he was back a moment later to resume his journey now that her knickers now gone. His light laughter added another level of sensation.

“What is it?” she managed to ask after a few false starts.

Hovering just over her pussy, Owen finally looked up at her, eyes dancing dark. “You so love this. Love the power of having a man between your legs, worshiping you.”

Power? She sure as hell didn’t feel all that powerful at the moment. But, God, did she love it.

His smile grew as he watched her.

“What?” What in the hell he was waiting for?

The smile became a smirk. “Absolutely nothing,” he said, and it sounded like a lie. But she didn’t get a chance to ask before he delved in, tongue slipping between her folds and tasting her with an intimate familiarity that made her ache.

The first time he had gone down on her had been incredible. He knew very much what he was about. And what had started out as incredible had only improved the more times they came together, as he learned to a greater extent what exactly she liked and how. Excepting the rare occasion, he generally took his time and made it seem like there was nothing else he would rather be doing.

Tonight was no different. And yet it was. The element of teasing was missing, the slow pleasurable torture that drove her close to madness. This was…nice.

His tongue moved over her in easy sweeps, lightly probing, caressing. Her body fairly hummed with desire as he worked. But the desperate edge wasn’t there. She wanted more, she always wanted more. This, though, she would be perfectly content with. In fact, she was content. Happy. Relaxed.

Her eyes were half-lidded as she watched him work. “So good to me,” she whispered, running her fingers lightly through his hair.

The pressure from Owen’s mouth increased just enough to have her arching up off the bed, body shivering slightly from a brief, unexpected orgasm.

“It’s about to get even better,” Owen remarked as he began making his way back up her body, following the same trail he had taken down. What seemed like ages later, he finally was face to face with her again. “Still with me, sweetheart?”

“Barely,” she breathed.

“Good.” He kissed her softly, but Gwen demanded more, opening her mouth eagerly to his and encouraging him to deepen it. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to be in the mood to deny her.

She was aware of him centering himself between her legs, cock nudging promisingly at her entrance. Without warning, he thrust inside, swallowing her cry as he kept claim of her mouth. Her body welcomed the penetration, and Gwen wrapped her limbs tightly around him, needing him close, needing as much contact as possible.

“Easy, girl,” he murmured against her lips. “Just hold in there a little longer.”

“Please, Owen,” she begged. If he was going to draw this out any longer, she was going to kill him—if she survived,.

“Stay with me, Gwen.” His voice was soothing, and his hips starting rocking slowly against hers. “So going to be worth it. I promise.”

“Owen…”

“Stay with me,” he repeated. Then he rolled them so Gwen was on top.

Any other time she’d be more than happy to find herself in the position, but not tonight. “Owen, I don’t—”

“Trust me on this.” He pushed her hair back from her face. “Now I want you to sit up nice and slow.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but he kissed her, quickly cutting her off.

“Nice and slow,” he repeated.

Gwen nodded and did as he asked. When he sat up with her, she began to understand his request. The gradual change in position became an experience in an of itself, making her aware of every sensation, the tiniest shift… By the time they were both sitting up, she was already on edge.

Owen settled a hand on her lower back, warm and reassuring. He smiled at her. “How are you doing?”

“Overwhelmed,” she confessed, then laughed.

His smile widened. “It’s intense, but so worth it.”

After a few moments of silence and doing nothing but breathe and watch Owen watch her, Gwen started to feel a bit apprehensive. This was so unlike anything she’d done before.

He seemed to sense her growing uncertainty. “Need you to stay focused on me. Can you do that?”

“Yeah.” She swallowed.

“Brilliant. Now I want to you to move. But keep it small and easy, got it?” he instructed, eyes fixing on hers.

She rocked her hips just a bit and was amazed at how much she felt with that one tiny movement. She’d grown so used to him being inside her that, well, she had forgotten he was inside her.

“See?” She took great comfort in the fact that his voice wasn’t as steady as it had been. He was just as affected. But how could he not be? “Do it again,” he said, and there was just the barest hint of a plea behind his words.

So, she did it again and again. It wasn’t easy to keep her movement controlled. She managed, though. But she had never been more relieved than when Owen started to move with her, or counter to her. Sex had never been like this with anyone. She let her eyes drift closed, losing herself to sensation. Until, Owen’s sharp “Gwen!” forced them open.

“We’ll be having none of that,” he said a little less harshly. He cupped her cheek, thumb lightly running along the bone. “Your eyes have to be open for this, sweetheart. It’s going to feel like too much, but you need to try.”

“Owen, please,” she begged. “I can’t.”

“Gwen, yes, you can.” The stern edge crept back into his voice. “You don’t back down from anything. You meet every challenge, every alien, every oddity head on and you face them down, even when you’re scared shitless. This is easy next to all that. Isn’t it? No monsters. Nothing to hurt you. Yeah?”

Gwen blinked her eyes a few times and forced them wide. “Okay.”

“That’s my girl.” His lips brushed lightly over hers before he pulled back . “Now keep moving and don’t you dare take your eyes off mine.”

Nothing had ever seemed so difficult, but she managed to keep looking at him the entire time. For all the effort it took, it wasn’t a distraction. Somehow she seemed to feel things that much more intensely. And when she finally came, she didn’t blink once. She held his gaze the entire time.

Afterward, as they lay in bed, Gwen wrapped herself close around Owen, who dozed lightly beside her. She couldn’t bring herself to leave him just yet. And she wondered how she thought she could have given this up. There was more here than an affair and a release from the tensions of the job. And it terrified her how much she wanted this to be more. There was no doubt in her mind that’s what Owen wanted. That made this a very real option. It wasn’t what she’d taken up with Owen for, but was that a bad thing?

Owen shifted in his sleep, pulling her closer.

It was a hell of a risk, but if you didn’t risk anything… Hadn’t she learned today, courtesy of Suzie, that life was too damn short? She had played it safe for too long. And she was only going to hurt people if she kept on at it.


End file.
